


You Found Me

by Tread_Carefully



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Are they related well idk and idc, Historical Hetalia, Historical References, I malavoglia Is important to them overarchingly, Lionetto is a Neapolitan name, No Plot/Plotless, Nonbinary Character, Other, historical musings uwu, may write more to explain the overarching historical stuff, my itaroma bs, will I translate to italian idk my Italian is still bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:00:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26618590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tread_Carefully/pseuds/Tread_Carefully
Summary: He exhales the blankets of smoke. "Is that so?""Yes. You were bright with ideas and beliefs. You knew so much about what you wanted to be and what you wanted. I was lost. Without my independence, my perfect Serenissima Repubblica, my lion amongst the wolves and eagles, I was lost."Domizio frowns. "Are you still lost?"Feliciano hums. "No," they say, smiling softly, if not a bit pensive. They look at him, eyes golden like glittering jewels. "I am not."
Relationships: North Italy/South Italy (Hetalia)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	You Found Me

**Author's Note:**

> Feliciano uses any pronouns but I refer to them with they/them! In Italian they'd likely use masculine pronouns or neopronouns (tho I cannot find evidence of any being common) and in latin, neuter because they (and I) said fuck the rules.

Romano forgot when seeing Feliciano go through his books became normal. They don't have his house key, but neither does he for their apartment. They used to pick the lock, like he taught them. A bobby pin is flexible enough to fit the shape of a lock's ridge holes, and convenient for hair mishaps. They took his words by heart, which means a lot, because rarely do they do so, even if he simply leaves his door unlocked these days.

"I couldn't sleep," Feliciano says, in ways of explanation. 

Romano nods. "Have you read _La coscienza di Zeno_?"

"Yes, but," they start. They look at him, eyes shiny but darker and less golden brown in the night—they really can bring about an ordinary beauty—before turning away. "I think I will read _I Malavoglia_ again." 

Domizio smiles knowingly. "You enjoyed it that much?" 

"Perhaps," they mutter, sticking their chin up stubbornly. "It's melancholic. But it's real." 

He nods. "I remember situations like the Malavoglia's all throughout the South. The Unification was too early, too hasty. Working sons lost, houses and possession and boats sold to survive, many leaving for the Golden Paved Roads for years to come."

"It reminds me of you," they say, suddenly.

"Oh?"

"You… went through a lot during the unification."

"As did you."

"But you persevered. You never stopped fighting for the ideas you wanted in unification. I just… I allowed the Kingdom to swallow me whole."

"For the better. At the time, it was the smartest decision, Venezia." Domizio sighs. "We were seized up, no? But the North was quick to adapt, and we were left in poverty and overpopulation. I am difficult and stuck in the past, but _you_? You are quick to realize what is best. I admire that tactical eye in you. It was better in the long run."

"Maybe so," they mutter. "Maybe so…"

He sits down with them, hastily lighting a cigar. "We wouldn't have known each other much without it."

"No. We wouldn't have." They laugh. "I was Austrian, stripped of my precious trading ports. They were our only source of diplomacy."

"Well, were we not both Italian? Maybe in another time…"

"Maybe. You know, Napoli, it still surprises me how much excitement your letters managed to stir in me." 

He exhales the blankets of smoke. "Is that so?"

"Yes. You were bright with ideas and beliefs. You knew so much about what you wanted to be and what you wanted. I was lost. Without my independence, my perfect Serenissima Repubblica, my lion amongst the wolves and eagles, I was lost."

Domizio frowns. "Are you still lost?" 

Feliciano hums. "No," they say, smiling softly, if not a bit pensive. They look at him, eyes golden like glittering jewels. "I am not."

Domizio nods, something breaking in his chest and spreading. What could it be? Their eyes were always like that, softly taking him apart. "Good," he mumbles.

They lean in, and Domizio doesn't stop them. It's just a peck, but he coughs in his attempts to not be set ablaze in a flush. "You are a beacon of light, Lionetto."

He frowns. "You speak too highly of me. Do not look to me for guidance, Felice."

"You may be a little too late." They smile. "You found me."

This time, Domizio presses his lips to their own. Perhaps to quiet them. Likely because a treasure such as Feliciano should not be taken lightly. The kiss lasts longer.


End file.
